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Is sociopathy prevalence on the rise in America? According to the author of the book The Sociopath Next Door, it is. American culture has become a breeding ground for sociopaths.

And disturbingly, the prevalence of sociopathy in the United States seems to be increasing. The 1991 Epidemiologic Catchment Area study, sponsored by the National Institute of Mental Health, reported that in the fifteen years preceding the study, the prevalence of antisocial personality disorder had nearly doubled among the young in America, It would be difficult, closing in on impossible, to explain such a dramatically rapid shift in terms of genetics or neurobiology.

Male sociopaths do better with women. This is indisputable. If sociopathy is increasing in America, then we must look to the foundational market of human interpersonal relations — the sexual market — to discover the source of this increasing sociopathy. Quite simply, if more women are more often rewarding sociopaths with their sex, then the supply of sociopathy will increase.

Under what conditions would women swoon for sociopaths? Very harsh conditions, for one. An emotionless Machiavellian is a useful mate to have when survival is constantly tested. Another social condition that probably redounds to the benefit of sociopaths is one in which women are incentivized, by a coddling state and by women’s own economic self-sufficiency, to favor the love of maximum tingle generating cads over comfy cozy betas.

Tellingly for the currently cratering US, diversity may play a crucial role in assisting the rise of the sociopaths.

In this opinion he is joined by theorists who propose that North American culture, which holds individualism as a central value, tends to foster the development of antisocial behavior, and also to disguise it. In other words, in America, the guiltless manipulation of other people “blends” with social expectations to a much greater degree than it would in China or other more group-centered societies.

I believe there is a shinier side of this coin, too, one that begs the question of why certain cultures seem to encourage prosocial behavior. So much against the odds, how is it that some societies have a positive impact on incipient sociopaths, who are born with an inability to process interpersonal emotions in the usual way? I would like to suggest that the overriding belief systems of certain cultures encourage born sociopaths to compensate cognitively for what they are missing emotionally. In contrast with our extreme emphasis on individualism and personal control, certain cultures, many in East Asia, dwell theologically on the interrelatedness of all living things.

Interestingly, this value is also the basis of conscience, which is an intervening sense of obligation rooted in a sense of connectedness. If an individual does not, or if neurologically he cannot, experience his connection to others in an emotional way, perhaps a culture that insists on connectedness as a matter of belief can instill a strictly cognitive understanding of interpersonal obligation.

An intellectual grasp of one’s duties to others is not the same attribute as the powerfully directive emotion we call conscience, but perhaps it is enough to extract prosocial behavior from at least some individuals who would have behaved only in antisocial ways had they been living in a society that emphasized individualism rather than interrelatedness. Though they lack an internal mechanism that tells them they are connected to others, the larger culture insists to them that they are so connected — as opposed to our culture, which informs them resoundingly that their ability to act guiltlessly on their own behalf is the ultimate advantage. This would explain why a Western family by itself cannot redeem a born sociopath. There are too many other voices in the larger society implying that his approach to the world is correct.

As Robert Putnam has discovered, ethnic and racial diversity reduces trust and social cohesion. Radically heterogeneous societies lose their aura of connectedness. Within this atomized, unraveled milieu, sociopaths thrive. They thrive not only because any communitarian brakes on their behavior are removed, but also because the culture begins to value and exalt the very special talents of the sociopath. This is an unavoidable transition when people feel unmoored from a larger social family, and adopt a pathologically individualist “look out for #1″ attitude to life in response to the vague but palpably ominous threat of rainbow fauxalitions.

To be a high level player, you have to be blessed with a touch of sociopathy. Without that trait for timely detachment, you will empathize too much with the particular needs and reproductive goals of women. That distracting emotional resonance will hinder your ability to hurt a woman’s feelings and, sadly you’ll discover, rare is the woman who joyfully surrenders her body to a man who is careful to spare her feelings.

So sociopathy has its privileges. But no nation of sociopaths ever put a man on the moon.

If you plan to pursue a fast-paced, rewarding career in womanizing, you’ll want to take steps to protect yourself from crazy chicks. All you need is one wild-eyed stalker camping out at your apartment door when you get home from work to make your life exciting in the wry Chinese sense of the word.

With that in mind, reader anonYmous advises,

Couple things from my past. And things I wish I would of done better. Using a fake name. Not showing her where I live. Not letting her follow me home. Using a burner phone (I have my main cell and a lot of chicks at work have access to databases and know know way too much about a person). I dated a chick who worked at the storage vault for the county courthouse and it was the same place they stored all of the local hospitals and clinics medical records. Needless to say she knew quite a bit about me. Also, if you plan to move get a new drivers license before you move, say you lost it or whatever. Just make sure not to give them the new address. Always keep ur phone locked and dont use a SD card on ur burner phone. Also remember that newish phones can stay connected to towers while the phone is off, so pull the battery on your main phone. The govt can use gps data to “link” two phones to an owner. The other thing I would add is to save incriminating evidence. If shit hits the fan always have a mountain of evidence on chicks. I also leave my wallet at home, and throw a hundred underneath the insole of my shoe in case I get in a bind. Though 100 doesnt go very far when something comes up. But you could put a prepaid cc under ur insole too. A crazy chick will regularly go though ur pockets when ur using the bathroom or whatever. Course you can use this to your advantage and have a friend write a fake phone number and a chicks name on it on a piece of napkin or something to stoke the fire.

Sounds like a pro. This is advanced level counterintelligence. A burner phone is an obvious first line of defense against prying princesses. Building a deliverable dossier on your lovers is next level anti-snoop game. Cash only, prepaid credit cards when cash isn’t an option. Fake IDs are useful if you can find a reputable source of them, and they’re legal to own as long as you don’t use them to conduct a transaction in which a valid ID is required. Never give out your real address to a potential loon. Arrange all rendezvous at her place, or until she begins to ask why she hasn’t seen your place yet. I once boffed a woman for four months before she got within spitting distance of my neighborhood. Keep your home spare; no identifying family photos or work-related papers lying about.

Disinformation is king in a land of distrust and proto-spinster malice. Unusual secretiveness will invite probing; better to misdirect a crazy chick with layers upon layers of lies and quasi-lies. Good girls rarely need this kind of treatment because they don’t have reason to mistrust men and dig into each date’s personal files. They avoid the cock carousel lifestyle and its attendant vice. Bad girls, by dint of their predilections and intemperance, have been burned many times by assholes on the make, and have developed a keenness for snooping in the bargain. They are less naive, but they pay a price in surrendering their chance at redemptive love.

Gaming Crazy Chicks

The crazy chick is practically an American institution. Delayed marriage, cats as alpha male fill-ins, marathon trash TV, childlessness, anti-depressants, and energy drinks with five pounds of added sugar will turn most normal girls into genuine headcases or poseurs who want men to think they’re headcases. A disconcertingly large minority of American women seem to believe that acting like a mentally imbalanced fruitcake substitutes for a paucity of femininity. It doesn’t. It only makes men think you’ll put out on the first date.

The crazy chick can be gamed, and there’s good reason to try. Men want three primary attributes in the ideal woman: beauty, an openness to sexual experimentation, and a sweet disposition. Crazy chicks often possess attribute #1, and always possess attribute #2. The problem is that they never have #3, so the smart man knows the crazy chick was put on the earth for fun only, to be discarded as soon as the ratio of her pain-in-the-assery exceeds her ability to sexually please. The crazier the chick, the quicker that P-to-P ratio turns upside down.

If you’re going to mix it up with crazy chicks, you had better know what you’re doing. Lesser men have gotten chewed up and spit out by the sexy siren who made a sport of baffling and blind-siding her prey. A man unacquainted with the Lokianne side of female nature can be ruined for all good women after a few months dangling on the painted meathook of a crazy chick. You’ve gotta know when to hold ‘em, and know when to fling ‘em out the door and change the locks.

It also helps to know which chicks are crazy to the bone, and which are just sad, tragic figurines fronting crazy for the attention whore fix.

Commenter Troubadour writes,

I’ve decided to seek outside opinions profiling the girl.

She has piercing, dark eyes that drill straight into mine, and our eyes stay locked while she throws out shit tests like these:

“It was my fault I was raped when I was 11. Everybody tells me I was asking for it, and I agree. I was asking for it.”

“I’ve often thought how much fun it would be to call a hooker over and then murder her.”

“I almost killed myself a little while ago. I cut too deep. That’s why I’m wearing the long sleeves.”

“I hope I die soon. I haven’t eaten in over a month to lose all that weight, and I’m in danger of passing out. I might pass out behind the wheel and die. I hope it happens.”

Is that the kind of crap a garden variety scene kid throws out to get attention, or is this chick scary fucked up?

What am I messing with here?

I’m no psychiatrist… just a humble man with a working penis and a blessedly light genetic mutational load… but I can tell you this chick is fucked in the head. She’s either a raging narcissist or a certified nut; in practice, it makes no difference to you. The emotional basket case attention whore won’t make your life any easier than the subclinical loon.

Maxim #41: A girl who mentions rape or suicide during the first few months of dating in any context other than as a third party making a wryly humorous observation immediately outs herself as a crank with borderline personality disorder who will be a living nightmare as a girlfriend.

Many crazy chicks will fool you with their lavish dependency, and then surprise you one night with a story about “this one dude at the art expo I went to (yeah I forgot to tell you I was planning to go) who kept pestering me and eventually I just gave up and had to kiss him to get it out of the way”. And you’ll be like, “Ok, what the fuck just happened here? Do I need to get myself tested?”

What I’ve learned is that the winning tack with crazy chicks is a studied indifference to their assorted psychological manipulations. And by the buttplug of pajamboy do they have a warehouse of mind games. Know what you’re getting into, and be ready to get out as soon as you catch her freak coming round the corner. One, you’ll want pussy on the side; crazy chick pussy is usually pretty good, and hard to tear yourself from if you don’t have a fallback. Two, whatever you do, don’t indulge her outbursts, her passive-aggressiveness, her pity ploys, her martyrdom, or her sensationalism.

The worst decision you can make is to be “exclusive” with a crazy chick, and try to reform her. That’s just begging for a world of hurt. You’re no magnanimous minister to the moon units, saving hos like Jesus saving sinners. The crazy chicks FEASTS on do-gooder betas. You show a glimmer of kindness, or patience, or a “need to understand” and your cuckoo boo will have your sanity for lunch.

The only cure for the crazy chick that’s been known to work on at least a few of them is The Wall. A headlong splat and total invisibility to men is worth more than ten years of therapy and annual pregnancy scares. When a young hottie has lost her source of power, her crazy stops befuddling betas and testing the tolerance of alphas. She gets ignored, and learns through Instant Feedback that her crazy antics, once so entertaining and lovable in the form of a 21 year old vixen, now isolates her from every social circle she knows.

The best counterstrategy for dealing with crazy chicks is bracing candor wrapped in condescension. Tell her what’s really going through your head, but do it in a way that leaves no doubt how little you care what she thinks or feels:

“It’s amazing how you can say shit like this while holding eye contact like a serial killer. Great stuff. Love it. What other tricks do you do?”

Meet crazy with the kind of male crazy that *really* drives crazy chicks nuts: detached amusement. The sex should be incredible. Just don’t stick around.

The Ten-Year Cuck

Id Dregs (fitting handle) tells a scary campfire story that reverberates in the dankest recesses of our souls because it explores ancient betrayals that have stalked humanity since its rise from the origin slime.

This type of stuff doesn’t really sink in until you witness it or experience it first hand.

Case in point, I knew a couple (let’s just say they were very close to me, as one was related to me). They had been married for 15 years. The man did everything to raise their social economical standing from near poverty to mid-middle class. He did just that through hard work and dedication. They both seemed to be in love and for quite some time (at least it seemed to me, I was very young at the time). Years pass and they had three children together. We see them at family gatherings and they look to be very much in love with each other but as we know here, in these parts, looks can be very deceiving. Especially on the woman’s part. Anyway, fast forward some years and the man grows suspicious about his woman’s love for him. She acts distant in general and starts to come home later than usual. The man then purchases a voice recorder and places it underneath her truck’s dashboard.

what was revealed later, shocked him so much, he went on a deep depression for about a week before confronting the matter. I’ve heard the tapes, and a woman’s id is really the most unfiltered, debased, and crass piece of shit known to man… but eh, back to the story.

He confronts her about this and she doesn’t deny it. He asked how long, and she says, “I’ve been seeing him for 2 years now.” He doesn’t puss out at this level and beg for forgiveness but does something so evil, I won’t even bother to post it here. [ed: oh come on, man!] A man can only take so much before revealing his id too, I suppose.

She leaves him alone with their three children, but for him, he still feels something’s not right. So he gets a paternity test on his three children and he comes to find out his youngest child, his 10 year old one, is not his.

He was cuckolded for 10 years.

Let that sink in.

10 years.

He banished the child from his two others and now the bastard child lives with her. You can only imagine the damage this causes to the other siblings but the bitch doesn’t really care. At her very core, her id is the only thing that matters. Damn be all.

I still see both of them from time to time and while the man has tried to raise himself, he can’t. He’s too old now. He’s invested well over half his life into a traitor and for what? Nothing. He’s nearing 60 and the other thing that keeps him alive is his two legitimate children. As for the woman? She’s currently with some man who pulled the exact same thing to his own family, just to be with her. They’re currently broke but it doesn’t matter to her.

I believe heartiste here said it himself. Something along the lines of, ” when the love is gone, it’s almost as if a woman doesn’t even know you…”

Close enough.

Maxim #13: When the love is gone, women can be as cold as if they had never known you.

Well, she’s in love with her badboy and knowing that she’s nearing poverty doesn’t matter to her.

That’s enough #realtalk for the day.

The specter of rape gets an awful lot of Cathedral ink in the mainstream and feminist weirdo media, but if the numbers are tabulated rather than leftoidally confabulated the incidence of cuckoldry could be as high as 30 times more prevalent than recorded penis-in-vagina rape.

Now let THAT sink in.

But of course the comparative scourge of cuckoldry — the utter malevolence of the betrayal — raises nary a curious eyebrow from the cognoscenti because they, just like the hinterland yokels they love to torment, are psychologically enslaved to the biological imperative that pulses at the heart of the fundamental premise.

CH is well aware that the existence of this divinely created premise assures the immutability of the reality it manifests, and that nothing we write here will alter the universal laws of nature. That won’t stop us from enjoying the twist of the shiv and provoking howls of pain from the platitude pushers. It must be that Christmas spirit of giving flowing through us…

Merry Christmas

Many thanks to all the readers who showed their superlove for CH by donating to the blog (see Donate button at right). It is appreciated.

Pictogram Text Game, Trending

When words fail you (or you’re too indifferent to the outcome to bother formulating a sentence fragment), you can’t go wrong with pictogram (aka emoji) game. A reader sent along screenshots of his pictogram game.

Her contribution: Eighty words, four smilies.

His contribution: “Good.” “Ok.” A funny fat birthday cat.

That, my friends, is what it looks like when a woman is chasing an alpha male’s approval. I suspect that birthday cat will get a lot of CH readers laid in the cumming months.

As the pictogram sender above noted, the girl tried to pull a “take-away” on him at the end, but it’s obvious her threat was empty. When a girl is really through with you, she stops talking. When a girl is still into you, she pretends to be through with you in twenty words or more.

PS Some readers have complained about what they perceive is an excessive focus on text game. Folks, I don’t make the mating market, I just live in it. Face-to-face courtship has ceded ground to the smartphone seductress. If Romeo were alive today, he’d be staring at his phone under Juliet’s balcony, furiously texting her romantic odes as she watched them arrive on her phone from up above him. If you think we’ve lost something human in the transition, just wait until you get a load what the future has in store…

While peer reviewed, double blind, metafantastic research on the subject is hard to come by, there is a general consensus among men who have experience with women beyond licking their taints in the comments section of feminist blogs that the less attention whoring a woman the better candidate she is for a long-term relationship. The causal mechanism for this observed reality is theoretical at this point, but a reasonable proposition is that attention-craving women — like this one — have oversized egos which require constant external validation.

Women without this need for ego stroking from the betatariat and BFF choruses are, on the whole, more grounded and fulfilled with their private love lives. While they are just as attracted to desirable alpha males as any social media mistress who sells pieces of her soul to Instagram, the attention eschewing woman represents less risk as a long-term romantic investment, because her sexual and communal energy is more inward- than outward-directed.

What is a poosy paradise for most men? It is a place where, or a time when, the women are beautiful, sexually hungry, and also sexually faithful, with an eye toward long, loving relationships while they are still in their youthful primes. You can find these places by word of mouth, or by extensive travel. You can also narrow your search by collating online social media data by country and discovering where the women are least likely to whore for attention.

Probably the best data rich vein is Facebook. The average number of friends that a country’s (or a region’s) women have on Facebook is a pretty good indicator of the mean level of national attention whoring. Internet penetrance (heh) is broad enough in developed countries that fair comparisons between Facebook friend numbers can be made by country. (I suppose if you want to Game Africa, this comparison system will do you no good.)

Commenter corvinus writes,

But even your normal white American male of German-Irish-English descent has to contend with the fact that about one-third of women in their twenties are FAT, and the desirable women usually have several male orbiters and never have to worry about not having a boyfriend until they’re north of 35.

One thing I’ve noticed based on Facebook is that the hot American girls usually have over 500 “friends”, and very often over 1,000 (including plenty of frat boys that they’ve known for years and can pick from for their next boyfriend), whereas Eastern European girls tend to have only about 100 or so. I myself was never in a fraternity, and only became halfway socially adept after coming here a couple years ago, and I’m now into my early thirties. So I have a serious disadvantage as per social connections go.

Crack CH researchers trawled the net and found some social media data that helps clarify where in the world the worst attention whores reside. While the following graph isn’t separated by sex, it’s safe to assume the overall comparison is similar for both men and women across countries, even if there is a difference in average number of FB friends between the sexes within countries.

Within America, it should surprise no one that the attention whores congregate in the Northeast and Midwest, where careerist feminists and fat single moms predominate. The attention whoring in the South is probably driven by their large black population. Squinting a little, the attention whore map overlays fairly closely with the Red State-Blue State political map (especially the one that drills down to the county level, where racial political differences are more apparent). The big outlier would be the Pacific Northwest, where people take pride in their friendship selectivity.

Worldwide, Russia and Eastern Europe look like the places to be for pretty girls who don’t feel a delirious compulsion to hoard as many pretend friends as possible in an alternate virtual universe. And, again, this accords with personal experience: the EE chicks I’ve dated spent far fewer hours on Facebook per week than any American girl I’ve known.

Warm weather climates appear to be more Facebook friends-friendly, while cold weather climes the opposite. My guess is that this is a reflection of broad racial differences in temperament: K-selected, nuclear family people versus r-selected, social aggrandizing people. But there are plenty of exceptions to this rule.

In Europe, the Anglo countries don’t fair so well. Feminism was birthed in the Anglo crucible, and it is within the Anglosphere where the fruits of feminism and you-go-grrlism are most overripe. Five decades blowing buttercups up girls’ muumuus is bound to have a deleterious effect on their egos and need for infinite validation.

Beyond Eastern Europe, Japan looks like a good bet for finding women who avoid attention whoring. If you’re a white Western man, Japan is tailor-made for romantic adventure: feminine women with self-sustaining egos and men who go to bed with pillow girlfriends as competition. Just gotta get past those flat asses…

Suburban_elk takes home the tumescent trophy,

It has been said that in the old days, in Russia and elsewhere, the folk tradition was that a man was expected, upon marriage, to beat his wife, one time.

He was not supposed to enjoy it, as might a demented sadist, but he was expected to do it.

And then she always knew.

“What did she know?!”, wails the assembled. She knew love.

***

Clover_Annie graces the board with a feminine wisdom gradually being lost to generations of Western women:

“I propose that we resurrect the memento mori for the hot young ladies in our society.”

As a 45-year-old peri-menopausal woman just itching to educate these fools, let me pile on here: “Here’s what you need to understand about being ‘hot’. First, no matter your level of natural beauty, once you hit 35 or so, you will not be anywhere near hot unless you work very, very hard at it. We’re talking diet, exercise, cosmetics, and possibly plastic surgery level of difficulty, and even with that, it’s possible that bad genes or a bad youth will make this all for naught. Second, even if you are hot when you are 35 or 45 or 55, that WILL NOT MAKE YOU HAPPY the way it did when you were 20. Love and family and friends and security and a good attitude will make even the ugliest 55-year-old happy, and lack of these will make even the loveliest elderly woman miserable. Beauty is not an end, it’s a means, and you had best use it while you can.”

Make love when you can, because it is good. A maxim that has seen me well. But for women it might better be said, “Make family when you can, because it is good.” The means of female beauty finds resolution in family. For men, the equation is different. The means of male power, in whatever form, finds reproductive resolution in the love and loyalty of many beautiful women. But unlike women, men’s reproductive resolution doesn’t have a stark finish. The acquisition of power is a lifelong pursuit, because the love of young women and the pleasure of their sex is an infinite joy.

Another stirring affirmation of CH-elucidated sociosexual realities comes courtesy of a peculiar agreement arranged between a married couple and researchers designing an experiment to test whether stubbornness by one or both spouses produces unhappy marriages. (ps: ♥)

It is better to be right than to be happy – at least for one husband on the cutting edge of science.

As part of an unusual experiment, the husband was instructed to “agree with his wife’s every opinion and request without complaint,” and to continue doing so “even if he believed the female participant was wrong,” according to a report on the research that was published Tuesday by the British Medical Journal. […]

Based on the assumption that men would rather be happy than be right, he was told to agree with his wife in all cases. However, based on the assumption that women would rather be right than be happy, the doctors decided not to tell the wife why her husband was suddenly so agreeable.

Both spouses were asked to rate their quality of life on a scale of 1 to 10 (with 10 being the happiest) at the start of the experiment and again on Day 6. It’s not clear how long the experiment was intended to last, but it came to an abrupt halt on Day 12.

“By then the male participant found the female participant to be increasingly critical of everything he did,” the researchers reported. The husband couldn’t take it anymore, so he made his wife a cup of tea and told her what had been going on.

That led the researchers to terminate the study.

Maybe the researchers thought that aiding the dissolution of a marriage violated ethical boundaries.

Over the 12 days of the experiment, the husband’s quality of life plummeted from a baseline score of 7 all the way down to 3. The wife started out at 8 and rose to 8.5 by Day 6. She had no desire to share her quality of life with the researchers on Day 12, according to the report.

Translation: The wife was appalled by the revelations into her sexual nature.

“It seems that being right, however, is a cause of happiness, and agreeing with what one disagrees with is a cause of unhappiness,” they wrote. They also noted that “the availability of unbridled power adversely affects the quality of life of those on the receiving end.”

Behaving like a supplicating beta male will increase your unhappiness, partly because it feels unmanly, but mostly because you’ll incite the seething contempt of your girlfriend or wife. CH readers won’t be surprised to read that an overly agreeable husband earned nothing but nagging criticism from his wife. The wife’s self-reported happiness didn’t budge much from Day1 to Day 6 of having her ego relentlessly stroked, but as we all know women are distinctly incapable, as a sex, of honestly and accurately aligning their socialized thoughts with their unsocialized feelings. A woman possesses a deep pool of innate talent for subconsciously reconciling contradictory emotions.

It would have been interesting to see how the wife rated herself on Day 12, but the self-reported result wouldn’t have had much impact on her *true* feelings, as manifest by her compulsion to nag the shit out of her husband for agreeing with everything she said. Never mind the wife’s words; her actions say it all. Women don’t respect, don’t desire, and certainly don’t tingle for excessively agreeable men. We know this from cold hard experience, and we know this from scientific inquiry. What a woman wants is a man who will put her in her place when she’s wrong or being silly. To stand up for himself. To call her out on her bullshit, aka shit tests. Oh sure, she’ll make a show and bitch and moan at first… but then watch her face vulvaically glow with desirous urgency as the life-giving waters of his insistent masculinity pour into her thirsty feminine soul. Yeah, just like that.

The Chateau covered this ground before, referencing a similar study. “Yes, dear” men get nothing but headaches, both their own and their wives’. “No, dear” men get enduring love, bordering on worship, from their grateful wives.

Continuing with the linked study above,

The three doctors think they might be on to something, and they wrote that they would like to see the work continue: “More research is needed to see whether our results hold if it is the male who is always right.”

Happy Whoridays! There has been “research” along those lines. As commenter Trimegistus asked,

Everywhere this article has been reported on they leave out the obvious, critical detail: WOMEN don’t react well to always being agreed with by men. If the experiment had been done with the opposite approach (wife agrees with hubby) it could go on for years because both of them would come to find it satisfying and pleasant.

A wife, writing on PuffedHo about her most intimate personal matters, decided that in order to resurrect her marital lust life she would agree to her husband’s desire for as much sex as possible. She didn’t want to do it, not on a conscious awareness level at any rate, but she discovered that acquiescing in total to her husband’s wishes made her own life a lot… happier! And less stressful. Feminists of course will be delighted to learn that wives who follow the Biblical command to obey their husbands enjoy a much more positive state of mind.

This is where women need to be, even if they will never say so, or are incapable of saying so, outright: Following the lead of their lovers instead of leading them around like a neutered cat on a leash. Anything less would be… unsatisfying.

Pajamaboy Caption Contest

Now it’s your turn. Leave your ideas for captions in the comments. Winners will be announced in a future post. Good luck and happy shivving!

Bonus!

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